How to Train Your Monster
by Aboverain
Summary: How to Train Your Dragon, with one big difference - instead of dragons, we have monsters. *title and summary may change*
1. Chapter 1

_**Chapter I – Pests**_

I woke up to the sound of the alarm.

How great. One moment I was happily asleep, surrounded by the warmth of the bed sheets, the next my eyes are as wide as the dining plates as I spring up and look around me.

As I supposed, it wasn't long before I started hearing yells, the clash of armors and weapons, explosions and other… rather indescribable sounds. Multicolored beams and moving, flashing lights of all shapes and sizes illuminate my room and invade my tiny window.

 _They_ were here.

I pull the sheets away, not caring as they hit the floor, knocking something off of the nightstand as well. Fortunately, I was already partially dressed and only needed to put on my coat and boots. The thing is, last night we also got raided, albeit with minor damages. I had to clean up some messes caused by our unwanted guests, and ended up so tired I went to bed directly without changing.

I thought it wouldn't be a good idea, but turns out it was. I wasn't about to stand there searching for my clothes while everyone else was having fun out there.

As I hurriedly put on my boots, I feel my heart racing and a little smile carving my face. You see, in this little mountain village we are in, we aren't completely safe. Like most other villages, we have pests, but ours are different. Others have things like, I don't know, mice or mosquitos. The usual creatures you would find on an almost deserted hamlet. But no, we had to get the big bad wolves.

Don't take it seriously. Ours pests aren't wolves, but I wish they were, because what he have is worse. Yes, worse than fierce dogs with teeth that could tear your limbs off. What is it you ask? You'd never guess.

I rush down the staircase, almost losing my footing. I jumped off the stairs when I was almost down, unable to control my excitement, and opened the heavy, wooden door.

Smoke, people running, fast shadows sweeping past them and the smell of fire greet me as I stare at the chaos outside. I barely had time to react when a bulking, thin shape stopped several feet away from me. I froze when those fire gleaming under the moonlight, and I could feel the thing staring right at me ( _into_ me, to be exact).

I could see the shape of a human, but with no legs or arms whatsoever, only shoes, a roped body and a fire head. I recognized this one creature, but I didn't have to react when a dark ball materialized next to it. I realized too late that it was a bomb – that was thrown at my door and burst into flames as I closed it with my back as fast as possible. Bits of molten fire got through the edges, and I could feel the almost unbearable heat right behind me.

"Monsters…!"

Yes, those are our pests. Monsters. But not these fairy-tale monsters. They aren't giant, evil, and ugly. They come in great varieties. From frog-like beings to actual ghosts, these monsters hold many surprises. And the worst thing is that they can use magic, like that bomb the Pyrope threw at me. We can't do that, but we have many weapons to fight them off. Most of them work… sometimes.

I peek out of the now-barely-burning door, and made sure the cost was clear. Most people would leave a place like this. I mean, it's common sense; who wants to live in an isolated village that is constantly raided by monsters? Well, us Vikings do. We have stubbornness issues, as you can tell. We fear nothing. If some random person got an encounter with a monster, they'd probably run away. Not us, we'd face them right away. We have one little rule when we find a monster: kill it on sight. Unless you have no weapons, of course. That'd be suicidal.

The worst part is that these things do no good to the world. When we die, the elders of the tribe put our souls away from the monsters' reach, because that is what they want. They come here to steal the souls of the fallen, which are quite many. Not only that; they sometimes even kill the warriors if they are pushed to the edge of their patience. Plus, as if that wasn't enough, they like to destroy or houses and weapons just for fun.

Lovable pests, huh?

I rush out of my house, and I can hardly keep a full smile in. This is chaotic, terrifying, chilling, but at the same time, it gives you this feeling of being alive. When you run through fire and magic, you feel like you are really living. You feel strength, adrenaline, you feel forced to join the battle.

Unfortunately, I, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, am not allowed to do such thing. I'm… a bit of a disaster here, you know? Everything I touch breaks. Everything I try to fix breaks. I may be a blacksmith's helper, but I'm not good at trying to fix problems. Still, I want to show my father that I can do it. Killing a monster is _everything_ around here. If I brought just a handful of dust and showed it to my father, I would be respected.

Why dust, you ask? Monsters actually turn into that when they die. Yeah, some weird thing. That is why, to prove that you actually killed a monster and didn't just go and pick up some sand, you have to show a blood stained weapon along with the monster's remains. Unless they're ghosts. You can't kill them, so…

A man falls right in front of me – probably blasted away by some monster's attack –, and his axe follows. Thanks Odin it didn't cut right through me as it fell, because it ended stupidly close to me. As the Viking quickly stood up and picked it up to rejoin the fight, two others carrying a wooden pole ran in front of me, and I had to duck under the large piece of wood to avoid getting rammed by the men.

We Vikings are also pretty careless in situations like this. Most warriors bump into each other because they have no time to stop whatsoever. Really bothers me, because it wouldn't be the first time I got ran over by someone larger than me. Trust me, it's not funny at all.

Turns out this time they decided to stop just to look at me – I noticed this as I heard a loud, echoing _thump_ , coming from a man who bumped head-first into the pole. He went flat to the ground, and honestly, the fear and excitement caused me to somewhat guiltily back away instead of bursting into laughter. People here hate me enough, no need to make it worse by laughing at others' mistakes. Then again, they laugh at mine. What's the difference?

I'm pushed out of my thoughts as I feel a sudden sharp pain on my shoulder and flinch to the side. Some random guy just bumped into my side and kept running as if I were some twig or leaf that got in his way. Do I _hate_ it when they do that. Who wouldn't? Getting rammed is a fairly annoying sensation. I get it all the time and still haven't gotten used to it.

I dodge two other Vikings that could have sent me flying to the grass beneath me if I hadn't gotten out of their way, but it didn't last for long – a blast blew me away a few feet, and I closed my eyes as I felt the heat along with a brief pain on my back. Good thing it was grass and not the rocky ground I was thrown into.

As soon as I open my eyes, a scream in my face almost managed to scare the skin right out of me. Realizing it was a Viking or not, the scare I got was still pretty darn big. A strangely cheerful smile appears on the warrior's face as he takes that demented look off his face, lowers the axe, and greets me with a happy, "Mornin'!" before dashing off towards the fight.

Getting up as fast as I can to avoid getting caught by any monster, I rush up the wooden walkway leading to the blacksmith stall, avoiding several people carrying weapons, barrels, and such. Their words appeared in my head before they spit them out as they looked at me with scowls and frowns.

"What're you doing here?"

"Get inside!"

"What're you doing out?!"

"Get back inside!"

Every single time, they say the same. I take this walk to the stall every single raid. Why do they act like they have never seen me? I guess they are just picking on me. I am the Loox that's been picked on by the Astigmatism.

That's a monster thing Gobber, the blacksmith, said once. I found it funny. Loox are "bully" monsters that get picked on by Astigmatisms, other "bully" monsters that are stronger than them. I like to use that comparison with myself. Accurate, isn't it?

I run past a Viking that prefers to search for stuff in his ear rather than join the rest. Good for him, I guess? Close enough to the stall, that little distraction made me run backwards for a moment, and I noticed the sound of waving wings too late to stop on my tracks – I met a Glyde face-to-face for a split second before a commanding, "Hiccup!" was heard and a huge hand pulled me out of its way; it flew away in fear, or shock, when the furious green eyes stared into it, daring it to come closer as it passed by.

That's the chief of the tribe, Stoick, or Stoick the Vast. He protects us, gives us hope. He is relentless. They even say that when he was a baby, he popped a monster's head clean off its shoulders. Do I believe it? Yes, I do. And now believe me, he is fully capable of doing it. He fears nothing, and his strength equals a bear's.

"What is he doin' out agai- what're you dong out?" His commanding, angered voice did send shivers down my spine. It's deep, strong. Really matches his persona. He lets go of me, shoving me forth as does so. "Get inside!" I barely catch my footing as I run off towards the stall, but I can't keep myself from watching him for a moment.

He is surrounded by destruction. Does he care? Not at all.

He looks around him with fiery pride gleaming on his green eyes. When I try to walk around with that expression, people think I've seen a ghost and immediately shoot their weapons at the sky. It's rather funny, but mostly disappointing for me. I want to look prideful and serious, not frightened, or plain blank.

Stoick does a double take when he sees the same Glyde from before, trying to hit some weirdo clinging to its tail. In the blink of an eye, Stoick grabs an _entire_ wooden cart that is as big as him, lifts it up as if it weighed one gram, and throws it with might at the soaring, winged fish… thing.

Bull's eye. The cart shatters into tiny pieces as it crashes into the Glyde's body and sends it teetering to its sides as it attempts to regain balance. The guy fell off before the cart hit the monster in a desperate attempt to not get hurt, but I'm sure at least one of the shattered pieces hit him on the head.

Stoick nods his shoulders in a victorious way, and looks down towards a Viking next to him. I compared them both; the blonde was nervous, and his eyes constantly searched for incoming magic attacks. Stoick, however? It was as if he saw where the next attack would sweep in, and thus didn't feel the need to be wary.

"What've we got?" the chief asks hurriedly, but calmly.

"A Glyde, Pyropes, Snowdrakes, oh and Hoark saw a Knight Knight." As soon as he finishes speaking, I merely flinch away as a bomb from a Pyrope lands and explodes right next to both of them. The Viking takes cover under his shield, but Stoick does nothing.

Wow. Just wow.

He lowers his voice as a flaming shrapnel lands on his shoulder plate. "Any signs of… _that one_?"

"None so far."

He brushes the fire off, muttering, "Good."

I know what " _that one"_ is. The most hated monster. One that is a mystery. It's always been my dream to take that one down, and I hope it comes tonight.

I feel lucky.

* * *

 **I don't continue this further because it is literally 2 AM right now, and I'm falling asleep faster than an eye blinks. I've had this idea in mind for so long, and it wouldn't leave me alone until I posted it, so here we go. Like it? Love it? Dislike it? Hate it? I adore reviews. Drop one if you feel like so, and tell me what you think so far ;)**

 **As a side note, if you haven't watched the movie How to Train Your Dragon, go watch it now. And if you haven't played Undertale, go play it now. Just to avoid confusion :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter II - Sans**

I run past a few men lighting the torches to illuminate the dark skies, helping the others avoid getting caught by monsters. Some of them, like the Snowdrakes, are afraid of fire. Others like the Pyropes are attracted to it though, so it's a risk. But hey, I think it's better. At least they can get those fire things together and catch or directly kill them. The rest might go away from the light, but it would be easier to see them.

With my heart rushing like I ran up a mountain and my legs aching from going so fast to rush here before getting stopped again, I enter the stall and find myself lacking the time to greet Gobber, who was hammering a scalding metal piece. I hurriedly pick up my blacksmithing apron and put it on as I get in.

"Oh, nice of you to join the party." he jokes, as usual. "I thought you'd been killed by now."

Arms behind my back to look innocent, I turn to face him as I approach the wall with hammers, axes, daggers and other weapons and gadgets, flatly saying, "W-who, me?" I turn to the wall, and struggle to put one of the heavy hammers back into its peg. Sometimes I forget how heavy these things are. Seeing Gobber put them on and off his arm stump makes it look easy. "Nah, come on, I'm too muscular for them to even dare getting close to me. They wouldn't know what to do against all…" In a futile attempt to look though, I scowl with a grin as I flex my nonexistent biceps. "This."

Gobber gives a brief chuckle as he unfastens that giant hammer on his arm stump, and replaces it with a hook, all while jokingly saying, "Well, they need to be brave, don't they?"

I ignore him as I open the wooden window. A swarm of angry, impatient warriors abruptly hand me their weapons, with looks of hatred and restlessness on their bearded faces. I put the weapons on the flaming hearth, and need to put all my weigh into the bellows to move it down.

From outside, I can still hear Stoick's commanding voice instructing, "We'll move to the lower defenses! We'll counterattack with the catapults!" I manage to see his shadow and other Vikings' as they move down the walkway, just as a Pyrope incinerates a house and runs right past them with a strange laugh.

I hear someone shouting, "FIRE!", and I look out the window after having handed the weapons to Gobber.

"Alright, let's go!"

My eyes widen almost involuntarily. I see them picking up their buckets, while covered by a sheet of fog and smoke. A chubby, blonde guy, twins with the exact same appearance and their gender being the only thing that tells them apart, and a scowling showoff, run towards the burning house.

Those are Fishlegs, the big know-it-all (big, in all senses), Ruffnut and Tuffnut, the twins that will never stop arguing about everything, and Snotlout, the teen who always brushes his success in my face.

And, of course…

A flash of pure beauty grabs a bucket and fiercely throws water into the fire, as a blast, probably from a Glyde, erupts right behind her, waving her hair. She walks away proudly, with a smile and a glare that I'd never stop looking at.

…Astrid…

She is beautiful, perfect, fiery. Everything a Viking needs to be. In other words, she's all I'm not.

I didn't notice the hypnotized look on my face as I watched her. Even followed by four smelly Vikings, she was still perfect. She wasn't even shaken by the huge explosion that sent fire and pieces of burning wood all over the place. She was like a younger, girl version of Stoick himself. Proud, careless about danger, and ready to protect those who need it.

I look away as the rush past the window. Oh, their job is so much cooler… They actually go out there, laugh in the face of danger and help women and children. All I do is support the weight of countless weapons and handle the yells of impatient men.

My hand sticks out. I barely realized I was at the edge of jumping off and joining them when a hook grabs the back of my shirt and drags me back inside. Oh, Gobber, why do you always have to ruin everything?

"Oh, come on, let me out please!" I beg with a faint tone of irritation in my voice. I know it's useless, but, hey, I have to give it a shot. "I need to make my mark!"

"Oh, you've made _plenty_ of marks!" Gobber puts me down, and gives me a few prods with the hook, sending me a few steps back. "All in the wrong places!"

 _No need to remind me,_ I said coolly in my mind. "Please, two minutes, I'll kill a monster! My life will get _infinitely_ better! I might even get a date!"

"You can't lift a hammer, you can't swing an axe…" he starts counting, giving me this look, as if he thought I was about to do the impossible. Well, I technically was… that one monster tends to come right about now. I must get out there and catch it. I have to. I need to.

With his good hand, Gobber picks up a bola. The heavy rocks hanging from the ropes rattle as he shows it to me, exasperatedly saying, "You can't even throw one of these!" Seeing a perfect chance, a Viking from outside snatches it, noisily spins it in the air, and grunts as he throws it at a passing Glyde, successfully tangling its wings and sending it to the hard ground.

That reminds me… I actually built a bola launcher for this occasion. Whenever I got just five minutes of free time, I would add some tweaks to it, and I'm pretty sure it works just fine now, though I never had a chance to try it, and all I'm relying on is luck and experience. Mainly the former. The bola launcher (I think I should think a better name for something like this) is a ballista-kind of thing that launches bolas at a terrifying speed. Man, I almost feel sorry for the monster that gets aimed at by this baby.

"But _this_ , will throw it for me!" I back down towards my perfect invention, and give it a few pats. I sensed it trebling slightly when it suddenly burst to life, throwing a bola out the window. Gobber managed to get out the way, but the thing hit a Viking right in the head, knocking off his helmet and making him fall on his back. Whoops… This is why I should never rely on my luck.

The launch was still good, right? Do I get any praise for that?

Pretty much ignoring my machine, Gobber glares at me after recovering from the sudden dodge he had to do and walks towards me. "See? Now this right here is what I'm talking about!" His voice becomes hard. Great, now he's mad. Don't say anything about the launcher, Gobber, it's not like I put effort into it or anything. I stutter a bit before answering – I think I let some of my own anger show up. "B-but a mild calibration issue-"

"No, Hiccup." He cuts me off. He shakes his head and moves his arms exasperatedly before pointing at me, "If you ever want to go out there and fight monsters," he points outside. "you need to stop all…" He eyes me, pauses, and lamely finishes, "this."

Oh great, not again. I can't even recall how many people refer to me as "This". At first I thought of it as a joke, now it's really starting to bother me. I'm not a "This". I'm not anyone different. I remember how Gobber used to say, _"There's the Viking way, and then there's the Hiccup way."_ Sometimes, his jokes can be pretty hurtful. I don't want to feel different, but with the entire village reminding me? That's even harder than taking down _that_ one monster.

"You just pointed to _all_ of me." I say casually, with a little frown as if the whole thing was new to me. I wish it was. He prods my shoulder with a finger, saying, "Yes. That's it, stop being all of you."

I know what he's doing. Two can play that game.

"Oooh," I say, narrowing my eyes defiantly and nodding my head. Gobber merely repeats me.

"Ooooh, yeah."

I point a melodramatic finger at him. "You- you sir are playing a dangerous game… keeping this much… _raw_ Viking-ness, contained…" I try not to falter as he stares at me blankly, in this _"what in Odin's name is this kid talking about?"_ kind of way. I lean up to meet his bored gaze as I raise my tone, "There'll be consequences!"

I always fail at looking serious.

"I'll take my chances." Gobber deadpans, turning around and picking up a seemingly old sword. "Sword, sharpened, now." Seeing how he lifted it up with only one hand, I had my expectations too high to realize that the thing was heavy as a hammer, and considering that Gobber literally threw it at me almost made me lose balance.

I need both of my arms to not crumble to the floor, and I'm certainly glad the edges needed urgent sharpening otherwise the sword would've cut through my poor excuses for Viking arms.

As I sharpen the sword, it making several noises that crash against my ears, I can't help but concentrate on my thoughts. One day I'll get out there. Preferably today. I feel pretty determined, to be honest. Sometimes I get these random feelings that tell me I can do anything. I've always dreamt with the day of finding myself with a blood stained knife and a handful of monster dust, proudly showing both things at Stoick, and watching a smile in his face.

I can see what's going on outside through the window. The fight has calmed down a bit, and I can easily see and distinguish the different shadows lurking outside. Monsters like Snowdrakes may look though, but they are actually not a challenge at all, even though they are fast. A handful of dust from that thing is sure to get me at least noticed.

You may be wondering how we recognize which monster you killed. Anyone could come up with an Ice Cap's dust and say he killed extremely dangerous monsters, such as Undyne – which, now that I mention her, has been caught by the best warriors in an expedition and is now prisoner in the training arena along with some other monsters. The arena is a bloodbath, really. That's where Gobber trains his students to be "great Vikings". They are literally pitted against powerful monsters, and you need to learn as things go. It's almost impossible to get out unharmed.

As I was saying, each monster has a different type of dust. A Pyrope's has ashes. A Snowdrake's has bits of snow. And so on. That's why you show it to Stoick – he has read, over and over again, the ancient monster book (which is also where we got their names from). He knows what their dust looks like, and it's impossible to fool him. You can't show it to anyone else. Unless you want to get into trouble, that is.

I see some Pyropes burning houses and laughing. They are sneaky and hard to catch. Taking down one of those would definitely get me a girlfriend. I don't know if Astrid would be impressed, though. I'm sure she's able to fight monsters more dangerous than those.

A couple of Glydes hover over the houses the Pyropes burned. They are tough and tricky, and since they are almost entirely black, it's hard to know when they're coming towards you – you can only see them if you watch out for that giant grin and big eyes. They are exotic and difficult to kill, they would make me twice as noticed.

One of them soars across the catapults. "They've found the souls!" I hear a man yelling from atop the one Stoick is standing in. He seems prepared to take down anything that crosses his path. "Concentrate fire over the lower bank!" I hear his booming voice order the rest.

They spin the catapult towards a group of Snowdrakes, ready to shoot a mortal blow. My heart races as I hear the "Fire!", and the massive boulder hurls towards on the of the icy creatures who, not expecting the rock, is facing the opposite direction. An almost sickening crash and a pained yell, accompanied by the sound of the thing turning into dust, attack my ears.

There are also pretty dangerous monsters out there that aren't used in the arena, such as the Knight Knight, a giant beast that stops at nothing. Only the best warriors go after that one; no Viking has killed it yet, but it's pretty heavily beaten up already. One of these days, it's going down.

Stoick looks down, seeing how the Knight Knight appears from the fire that engulfs the lower part of the catapult. This monster has a nasty habit of spying you, and attacking when you less expect it. It looks directly at Stoick, and I tense.

"Reload!" Stoick yells, twisting a hammer in the air as he faces the thing. He mutters something I'm unable to get, and bravely smacks the Knight Knight twice in the face. Or, what I _think_ is its face. That thing has a "grinning" mouth and what appear to be eyes on its helmet, but an avian face on its chest.

The chief dodges a hit from the monster's staff that almost crashes mightily right in his chest. However, the Knight Knight seems to hesitate, and gets down the flaming catapult. Afraid of something.

It's here.

The ultimate prize is the monster no one's ever seen. It's fast as a shadow – which is the only thing you see when it attacks, its shadowy blur sweeping across the destruction its attacks cause. Stoick looks around him, at the sky, as certain noise fills the atmosphere and the monsters go quiet and retreat for a moment.

We call this monster…

Sans.

I put down the sword in shock when the sound of an incoming blast surrounds everything else until it's the only thing we can hear.

"GET DOWN!"

A dragon skull emerges out of nowhere behind the catapult, and fires a powerful, white-blue beam at the flaming tower, destroying it completely. I see that humanoid shadow pass through the fire and disappear straight away.

"Jump!" Stoick screams, hurling off the falling catapult. Giant, burning bits of the tower fall off as the men desperately try to jump in the opposite direction. I wince as some of the falling parts cause a small explosion, and lean out of the window. My eyes scan the place, but there's no sight of that damned monster.

That thing never tries to steal souls, never shows itself, and…

Three more dragon skulls materialize in the middle of the sky and shoot deadly, blinding lasers at the now precarious catapult, which crumbles to mere pieces of fallen rocks, molten metal and destroyed wood. Everyone scrambles out of the way, some of them getting knocked over by the force of the blasts – I actually feel them from here.

…it never misses.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter III – Downed**

I feel a strong reliance hit me like the waves of the sea hit the rocks standing on their way.

No one has ever landed a single hit on this monster, and we tend to shoot bolas, spears and arrows at the sky and forest areas as soon as we know this thing is here. Not even Stoick has hit it. All you can see is a blur, and the rest is destruction.

That's why I'm going to be the first to, not just hit, but _kill_ that monster. I can already picture it as my eyes narrow and I enter back the stall to grab the bola launcher. I see myself, in front of Stoick, proudly telling him I killed the monster no one's ever seen. I know I can do it. Sure, it may sound crazy; why would I, the worst Viking Berk has ever had the misfortune to keep, success on what not even the chief accomplished? Honestly, I have no idea. I just feel like I can do it. It's not the first time I've gotten this same feeling, and the last times I actually succeeded.

And, by succeeding, I mean I didn't get killed by a house crumbling down on top of me as I helped some men pull away the rubble after the past raid.

As I run towards the door, I find myself forcing an innocent look on my face as I see Gobber unfastening a hammer- which he noisily tosses away, and attaching an axe to his arm stump. "Man the fort, Hiccup." he tells me. "They need _me_ out there."

He hobbles towards the door, making sure the weapon won't fly off his hand as soon as he attempts to land a hit on a monster, but suddenly stops just as he's right between the door and the war outside. He faces me. I already know what he's going to say.

"Stay…put...there."

I look innocent, with this face of not knowing what he's talking about.

"Y'know what I mean."

With a battle cry, raising the axe high, he rushes towards the battle. Did he actually believe I was going to stay here? When I'm filled with determination and I've got the most perfect opportunity to take the feat no Viking has ever had the chance to lay his hands on? Sure.

Less than a minute after he leaves I'm running the bola launcher (which, after some meditation, I decided to call Mangler) all over the village. I'm unable to stop and force people to get out of the way before getting trampled by the big piece of wood I carry all over; I shake with it as it brushes across the rugged terrain.

After passing through the havoc, I near a cliff and all the sound seems to drain with each of my footsteps. The light of the fire and the explosions dims away, and I'm left with a strange silence. The only noise I hear now is me mounting and preparing Mangler to fire a perfect shot. I hold it steadily, and wait.

With the fight stopping and far away from me, I have enough silence to concentrate on the sky and dark forest in front of me. I hear the distant footsteps of the other monsters scrambling along the bushes, and manage to see some Glydes flying away in defeat. But no sight of Sans.

I hear no incoming attacks. Everything is quiet, perhaps too peaceful. "Come on…" I whisper. "Give me some to shoot at, give me some to shoot at…" The only thing I see now is a deserted catapult, and I'm hoping some monster comes by and destroys it, putting itself on my aim. Preferably Sans.

Suddenly, I see something out of normal. With so many raids, I recognize the monsters' footsteps, and the sounds they make as they walk around the forest. What I'm hearing now is nothing like that. I hear steady, rapid footsteps, that seem to get faster and faster each second, and closer - until they disappear completely.

I flinch back when a dragon skull suddenly appears right next to the catapult, and fires a devastating beam at the tower – my eyes wanted to close as the blinding light attacked them, but for a moment I saw a humanoid shadow burst through the fire and head back to the forest in an artless second.

This is it.

I shoot, and the force of the launch sends me flying. I land hard on my back, but not even the shooting pain prevents me from tasting my victory as I glare at the forest.

Something lurches to its side, and almost too fast for me to see it, falls down a steep hill with a pained cry that echoes around the place.

...silence…

I can't believe it. It's not possible, is it? I… I _did_ it. I… I actually hit Sans. That _had_ to be Sans. No other monster has that shape and that kind of attacks.

"I did it…" I spring to my feet and jump in the air with my hands up. _I really did do it!_ "Yes I hit it!" I turn around, hoping to see a swarm of Vikings waiting for me to look at them so they can praise me. But there's no one. Oh well, I can just go back to the village and tell them my success. No harm done.

Something cracks behind me. Sounds like wood, and a heavy footstep.

Don't tell me that…

I sharply turn around, and the surprise I get is not pleasant at all. I feel all my victory fly away as the Knight Knight stands over a now mangled Mangler, and stares right into me with… "both" of its "faces". The two of them look really mad, and I know I don't want to deal with this thing.

"…except for you."

The Knight Knight lunges forward and my legs start running before I can tell. One second I was praising myself, the next I was running for my life and screaming my lungs out as the gargantuan creature gives me chase.

It shoots some sort of bullets at me, and I turn around as abruptly as I possibly could, almost slipping and falling, as the many attacks explode against the wall. Clinging to life, I take advantage of my scrawny body to completely disappear behind a pole; perhaps this monster is dumb enough to believe I vanished, and will go away.

I suddenly feel a burst of heat on my sides as the monster throws a powerful arrange of bullets at the pole, and I see it melting and burning down. As carefully as possible, I peek around the side. I only see scalding metal and burned wood, but no sign of the Knight Knight. That sure was something.

I hear a breathing next to me.

I barely have time to see the Knight Knight seconds way from hitting me with its staff before a vast figure pushes it away, and I cower away from the melting pole. Now I feel awful for making Stoick come to rescue me. While I wouldn't like getting killed by a monster, I don't like to make others get into trouble because of me. But, hey, it's Stoick we're talking about here.

He gets in a defensive position, and readjusts his helmet as he prepares to receive the Knight Knight's attack. It shoots bullets at him, but they barely get close to Stoick, and he only needs to dodge a couple. The monster seems to be getting tired, and the avian face contorts into a worried, almost fearful grimace.

"You're all out." Stoick mutters, and with his _bare hands_ gives the Knight Knight three clean punches and a kick on its side, making it flee along with the others. I wish I could do that…

Oh… there's one more thing you need to know.

The fire finally beats the pole, and it crashes to its side, revealing certain scrawny Viking that messed up badly enough. I stay still like a statue, keeping a long breath in as I meet Stoick's furious gaze. The pole falls into a bridge, almost crushing a man who should've been a tad more careful. I watch the torch roll down the walkway, knocking stuff over and forcing men and women to jump to the side before getting burned alive.

I flinch at every noise the torch makes as it falls down, and know I'm in trouble. The entire village is looking at me. When I said I wanted a swarm of Vikings around me, I didn't mean an _angry_ swarm of Vikings around me.

"Sorry…dad."

The most unbelievable thing is that Stoick, the chief, the most powerful, brave, attentive, reliant, strong, and so on and on Viking is actually my father. Hard to believe, right? I'm the polar opposite of what he is. Weak, fearful, inattentive, reluctant, and so on and on.

The torch meets the end of its path as it cuts through a net holding some Snowdrakes and a Glyde, and they all run and fly away with the others. As the sun rises, I manage to see how most of them actually managed to steal a few souls.

But that's not my fault… is it? Since the Village has no one else to blame, they're probably going to say I did all this.

I look around me, hoping somebody would say something before I open my mouth and directly screw everything up. Well, screw everything up _even more._ I feel Stoick's glare on my back, and I look at him with a puppy face. I guess there is only one thing that will get me out of this, and surely make everyone cheer.

"Okay, but I hit Sans."

His hand abruptly grabs the back of my coat and Stoick drags me back to the house. Are you kidding? Is everyone deaf? I just said I hit Sans, and nobody, joking or not, would say such thing if they hadn't actually done it! This is not an excuse. I did hit that damned thing! What's my reward? Everyone murmuring and giving me hateful, scowling and disappointed looks, and my father with smoke coming out of his ears.

"It's not like the last few times, dad, I mean I really actually hit it!" I struggle to follow his angry path and try my best not to fall. "You guys were busy and I had a very clear shot!" Nobody is listening. They think I made this all up. Well, let's see who else can come up with this feat! Oh, yes, nobody, because I already did it. "It went down, just off Raven Point- let's get a search party out there before it-"

"STOP."

I flinch back as his booming voice crashes against me and seals my mouth shut. Everyone stops talking immediately. "Just… stop. Every time you step outside, disaster follows! Can you not see that I have bigger problems? We have an _entire_ collection of souls to protect! This isn't a _joke,_ Hiccup."

He heaves a long sigh, and I feel like an ever worse person. I know I can cause a bit of trouble, but I don't want others to feel bad because of me. This souls thing is serious and I know it. Us Vikings have been storing the dead's souls for years – ever since we sailed to this island about 300 years ago, go figure.

"Why can't you follow the simplest _orders_?"

I don't know what to say. A scramble of words fills up my mouth and I'm afraid to let them all out, knowing anything I say might turn everything upside down for the worst.

"I-I-I c-can't stop myself, I see a monster and I have to just…" I make a somewhat violent gesture, picturing myself snapping a monster's neck with my bare hands like anyone else would do. " _kill it,_ you know? It's… who I am, dad."

Stoick puts a hand over his head as if he were trying to get all the bad thoughts out of his mind, but failing at doing so. "Oh you're… many things, Hiccup." He looks at me with a softer expression, but I can still see that deception on his eyes. "But a monster killer is not one of them. Get back to the house."

I roll my eyes. It's always me. I always have to pay for everything I didn't do. I have brought down and probably indirectly killed the most wanted monster, and not only do they not believe me, but I also have to swallow a monologue. Guess luck flew away from me, as the feeling of victory did.

"Make sure he gets there!"

A smack on the side of my head pulls me out of my thoughts, and I get a sudden feeling of hate towards Gobber when I find him as the culprit. _That was uncalled for,_ I spit at him on my mind. "I have his mess to clean up."

Now I just want it all to end, I've had my moment of victory. It felt great, but now nothing else feels great. I'm embarrassed and angry at everything and everyone. All I can do is walk away in the path of shame, my head hanging. I wanted to brag about what I did. Guess that's impossible now. That Sans thing must've escaped already and is now preparing for the next raid while I'm here as Hiccup the Useless.

And to make things worse, a cackle warns me that I'm about to go through the worst stage – the hurtful mocks from the others.

"Quite the performance!"

"I've never seen someone mess up so badly, that helped!"

I try my best to ignore their words and grinning faces as I muster, "Thank you, thank you, I was trying, so..."

I hear and "ow!" and someone falling to the ground, and faintly smile as I realize that Gobber must've pushed Snotlout away. Guess I'm not the only one having a terrible day.

* * *

Walking up the hill to my house, I'm still trying to convince Gobber of my feat. To be honest, Gobber has more chances of believing me than my dad. "I really did hit it." I say for the millionth time.

"Sure, Hiccup."

"He never listens."

"Oh it runs the family."

"A-and when he does it's always with this… disappointed scowl, like someone skimped on the meat in his sandwich."

I step on the porch, and try my best imitation of my father. "Excuse me, barmaid, I'm afraid yeh brought me the wrong offspring! I ordered an extra large boy with beefy arms, extra guts and glory on the side! This here, this is a talking fishbone!"

"Now, you're thinking about this all wrong." Gobber says half-heartedly, and I barely even listen to him anymore. "It's not so much what you look like, it's what's _inside_ that he can't stand!"

…what?

I give him the biggest frown I've ever given anyone. Gobber has never been the greatest of helpers in these situations. He's good at fixing physical stuff, not mental stuff.

"Thank you for summing that up."

With that I only hope he's had enough, but as I open the door, he stops me again with a, "Look, the point is: stop trying so hard to be something you're not."

What am I not? A Viking? Way to go, Gobber.

"I just wanna be one of you, guys." My voice cracks, and I hurry inside before I get sentimental about this. I close the door behind me, and wish he goes away and doesn't return to interrupt me. I can hear him sigh outside, but I finally hear the relieving sound of his footsteps going away.

I see a pencil, a notebook and a dagger on my table - must've been the one Gobber gave me when was teaching me how to cut through tough things in case I was ever alone against a monster and had a dagger to defend myself with.

…maybe, that monster hasn't escaped. I don't go to Raven Point a lot of times, but I know that the hills there are steep as heck. If it went down one of them, it's probably still concussed. Plus, I heard the sound the bola made when it hit Sans. It's difficult to get away from that.

I make my choice instantly. I pick up the notebook, dagger and pencil and hurry through the back door. I'm going to finish my job, and prove everyone that I did do the impossible.

* * *

I've been the entire morning searching for Sans, with no success. I drew a map of Raven Point on the notebook, and it's now covered in black X's, which are the spots I looked for the monster. The trajectory must've made it fall around this part, but I don't see anything.

I find a spot in which I haven't looked on, and pray the Gods to gladden my life with the sight of a preferably dead monster and a bola covered in dust. In all honesty… I don't feel capable of killing a monster myself. It's a feeling I can't describe. It can't possibly be guilt, these things need to die, but…

I close my eyes, focus, inspire…

Nothing.

My shoulders drop and frustration keeps hitting me. I don't know where to look next. As I trace another X, I notice how the entire map is already covered with them. In a burst of anger, I scribble all over the page, close it abruptly leaving the pencil inside, and put the notebook on my coat.

"Oh, the Gods hate me…" I stroll down the hill, kicking everything I find out of the way. "Some people lose their knife, or their mug… no, not me, I managed to lose an entire _monster_!"

Wanting to take out my anger on something, I slap a tree branch out of my way, only for it to hit me back. I wrinkle my face after feeling a sharp sting on my eye, and jump back as I stare at the guilty branch. I look at the tree.

And what I see makes my blood run cold.

It's snapped in half, like something crashed into it. There's a medium-sized trough that follows the hill until it stops at a cliff. My heart starts beating fast.

I found what I was looking for.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter IV – Spared**

I can't even begin to explain how frightened I am as I carefully walk down the trough. I take a good look around me; whatever fell down here had done a desperate attempt to stop its fall. A crash like this could have killed a human instantly – gives me hopes that the monster is dead.

I still have that feeling. It just takes one slash from the dagger to kill a monster (or, well, I hope it's enough with this one, considering the fall it went through). Why am I feeling bad? Monsters kill us and take our souls probably for the fun of it, and I'm not sure if to kill one? I almost see the logic running away from this. Plus, it's not possible that the monster survived something like this.

Careful with my footing, I slide down the muddy path after watching what's around me. Some branches and small plants in the middle of the trough are devastated –most of them look like they have been ripped off, as if the thing falling had tried to catch a hold of them to stop the deadly crash–.

I climb up a small bluff, look at both sides just in case-

And immediately duck down with a gasp that silenced the entire forest.

I swear I saw something down there, and I'm almost at the edge of screaming. I feel happy, but at the same time I'm so afraid I can barely move. I took down that thing with no doubt, but what if it's not dead, and has gotten itself free from the ropes? What if it's alive and is just trying to lure me towards it to kill me? Monsters that are wounded or defenseless know very well to play dead when there are humans around.

Gulping, I take the enough courage to peek over the bluff, just barely, making sure no undesirable surprises await me, before taking a better look at the sight in front of me. There are a couple of big boulders in the middle of a clearing – behind one of them is a small monster bound by ropes.

My heart races even faster and I'm afraid it's going to burst out of my chest. There's no movement whatsoever, but that thing could still be playing dead. My nervous hands uselessly search for the blade, and it almost slips off my grip as I take it out.

I take a couple of breaths to calm myself down. This monster has fallen down a hill with force, is bound by a strong bola, and is completely motionless. What are the chances of it being alive?

Holding the dagger tightly, I slide down a rock and jump off, hiding behind the other; making sure nothing sees me. I peek around it, huffing. When I manage to get a full view of the thing that has been tormenting us for so long, I honestly question everything. I imagined Sans as a scary, strong monster that should be bigger than the average Viking, and have an absolutely freaky appearance. It's none of that, actually.

Turns out it's a skeleton, roughly my height, with no odd details to its appearance whatsoever. Really, it's just a skeleton with clothes, and moving eyes apparently, as they are closed. I can safely guess this 'it' is a 'he'.

To think this is what causes such destruction in the blink of an eye… it's almost unbelievable. Then again, most things in the monster world are hardly believable. There are tiny, stupid things, like a Moldsmal (which is literally a living pudding), that can kill a Viking that's not paying attention at all.

Everything is silent know and I can only hear my own, shaky breathing. This thing doesn't move at all.

…but…

How did I not realize this sooner? My sense of triumph blinded me from the obvious. He's not dead. If he was, I would only find a pile of dust covering the bola I threw at him. He's not breathing or anything (can skeletons even breathe?), but he's not dead at all.

I feel this sensation crawl all over me again, but I brush it off. If this monster is not dead, then he's at the edge of death. Nothing could go away unharmed from a fall like this. Not that I know. "Oh wow…" I mutter, realizing that I was out of breath. I knew it. I _did_ do the impossible. I took down Sans, and all I needed was my faithful, inert friend Mangler to do so. Only one bola shot by a poor excuse of a Viking defeated the creature that not even Stoick could take down with hundreds of them.

"I- I… I _did_ it." I walk closer. "Oooh, I did it, this- this fixes everything! Yes! I have brought down this mighty beast!" I look up at the sky like a greedy Viking showing the Gods his proud kill, and laugh at myself. It's really a funny thing. I succeeded at something no one else did. It's just not possible. I wonder if I should slap myself to make sure this is not a dream – then again, if it is, I don't really want to wake up.

A low, steady noise fills my ears, taking me off of my moment of victory. He's breathing.

The ropes of the bola creak silently as the monster's arms rise and fall erratically with each pained breath. I don't even question how this is even possible as I hold the dagger in front of me as a measure of protection. I'm not out of danger. I've seen what this demon can do. Downed or not, he's still dangerous, and I mentally smack myself for letting the guard down knowing he's not dead yet.

However, he shows no signs of hostility. Perhaps he's way too wounded to even move. Monsters need a lot of concentration and stamina to create their attacks. I don't think a monster that has fallen off a cliff can summon magic, at least not one that is powerful enough to score a direct hit.

All he does is open his eyes. There's only a contracted, glowing white pupil in a sea of black, and it looks straightly at me. Sans does nothing else.

For a moment, the intensity of that one stare keeps me away from looking into his eye. There are so many mixed emotions in it, but there's one that highlights – fear. This monster, that could cause a giant catapult tower to crumble down with just one hit, is afraid of a scrawny boy. Well, after all, he's badly wounded and I'm here, perfectly fine and holding a dagger.

I look back at him. That eye doesn't get off mine. I swear it just got a little bit smaller as I gazed at it. I feel my legs and arms shaking, and take a few deep breaths. I can't show this thing that I'm afraid. I have the reins here. I'm the one who has the choice to kill now. This demon is defenseless, and I'm the one with the power. I have nothing to fear.

That feeling of guilt and regret is hitting me harder now, but I ignore it. Not now. Not now when I'm about to taste true victory. "I'm gonna kill you, monster. I'm gonna- I'm gonna turn you into dust and shot it to my father…" I remember everything this monster did to us. It's this thing's fault that we lost most of the raids. He has killed a lot of people. He has destroyed many things. It's my turn to end his destructive path. I'm doing the world a favor.

I almost struggle to take a good grip of the hilt as I point the blade downwards. It's now or never. "I'm a Viking." I look into those eyes. Still nothing. No blinking, no changes at all. "I'm a Viking!" I exhale. I must do this. Why shouldn't I? This is a beast. Something that should never have been created at all.

I raise the dagger above my head and close my eyes, but something stops me. It's like a regretful hand grips the hilt and stops me from striking down. I open one eye. Then the other, and the invisible hand tries harder to not let me kill this monster. Those black eyes widen, just a bit. He knows he's going to die. And he doesn't want to.

That look. That one look he's giving me. Somehow… I feel like it's killing me inside.

Taking this monster's life won't make me any better than the others. Vikings are supposed to be better than monsters, always. If we kill them for no reason, just because we think we can… then we are even worse.

No. What am I talking about?

I do have a reason. Many. Sans has also killed Vikings just because he could. I can too. I squeeze my eyes shut and raise the blade higher. I can hear the monster put his head down in defeat. The regretful hand keeps stopping me. I try, and I try again. I just can't strike down.

…just, what am I doing…

My arms loosen and I feel the blade resting on my head. It's not worth it. I can't take a life just to be popular. I can't do it. I just can't. I look at the dagger, then back at Sans. It almost looks like he gave up completely. There's nothing left for him. He can't go away, and someone will come around here and kill him anyways. But I won't be that someone.

There are several gashes on his clothing. He just…looks so pained… and to think this is my fault… What have I done?

I can't afford to look at him anymore. I can't even afford to look at myself, I ruined a monsters' life just because I wanted to be noticed. "…I did this…" I turn to leave. To run away in shame. But I stop.

I can't just leave him there. He's too weak to free himself, and no monster is going to come here until the next raid – by that time, the only thing that will be left is useless dust. Letting him die here is a worse fate than being killed straight away. I look at him. Still breathing heavily. Still unmoving. Still in pain.

I sigh, and close my eyes. There's only one thing I can do. The correct thing.

Hurriedly, I crouch and start cutting off the ropes as fast as I can. After he's free, I can just run away and never tell anyone this happened, even if it hurts me not to. But nobody is going to believe me anyways, even if I told them how Sans actually looks like. Not even Fishlegs. Vikings are stubborn. They won't believe that a so-called demon is a short, unsurprising skeleton.

Most of the ropes are already cut off, and I just finish cutting the last one when a mysterious force suddenly takes control of my body and I see myself surrounded by a blue hue. I feel numb as I suddenly rise up and get slammed against a boulder, and no matter how much I want to, I can't move.

I'm forced to ignore the pain on the back of my head when I no longer see that weak, frightened monster Sans was. Right in front of me is a vicious beast with the most piercing stare I've ever seen in my life, stronger than Stoick's. His right eye has no pupil, leaving it as a black abyss, while the other one is glowing in a blue flame. His left hand is extended towards me, and I wildly guess it's the reason of why I can't move.

I can barely feel my heart pounding as I simply stare at the deathly glare. If I could move, I would still be motionless. The intensity of that stare keeps me in place with more success than any magic attack ever could. I should never judge something by how it looks. This is a monster that would stop at nothing and could kill a horde of Vikings with a single hit. I almost see all the unleashed anger floating around this monster, and I regret setting him free.

Now the roles are reversed. I'm the one who is defenseless, and he's the one with the power. He's the one that can kill now. My eyes flicker towards the blade. I can still move my arms, albeit barely, but it's too far away from me to grab it.

The stare hardens, and I just know I'm going to die. I can picture one of those dragon skulls shooting a blinding light at me and everything ending. Now it's my time to wonder if someone would actually miss me.

I close my eyes. I can't dare to watch myself die.

But instead, I feel my limbs again, and open my eyes just in time to see Sans disappearing into the bushes. I see his silhouette running off through the rugged terrain, and crashing against trees and boulders as he leaves.

I hold my chest, and feel it throbbing. I go limp as I let out a breath that I was keeping in, and barely feel my feet touch the ground as I shakily stand up, grabbing the blade as well. I feel so numb I could fall at any moment; I look at the ground to see if I'm actually standing on the ground.

Erratic gasps come out of me as I turn around, one step at a time.

Now I wish this was a dream, because, otherwise, this makes no sense whatsoever. I survived a face-to-face encounter with possibly the most powerful and dangerous monster out there, and _survived_ without a single scratch, except for the raising pain on my back. I _will_ feel that in the morning.

I start to walk away, and I barely take one step before my body shakes and I faint.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter V - Training**

When I got back on my feet, it was fairly late already. I had to wait about ten minutes around the forest so I could clear my mind; everything was rather blurry, and my legs didn't cooperate at keeping me up that much.

As I make my way home, guided by the dim lights of the torches illuminating the village, and somewhat intimidated by the angered looks some Vikings cleaning up give me as I walk by, I can't help but feel the worst. The lights on my house are on, which can only mean Stoick is there. Great.

I walked around a forest for hours, survived an encounter with Sans, fainted for who knows how long, and returned home barely able to walk properly. The last thing I need right now is a scolding, which is probably what I'm going to get considering Stoick keeps reminding me of my mistakes, and today's made him pretty mad.

I open the door, making sure it's silent (or, as silent as that old, creaky door can possibly be) enough to make sure dad doesn't notice I'm here. I close it carefully, even though it still makes a deep, but short noise. I freeze for a moment. He's sitting on a seat, next to the warm fireplace. It doesn't look like he noticed me yet, so I can safely go to my bedroom, hide under the covers and never wake up again.

But then, something clicks in my mind. I remember that feeling that floated around me when I found Sans. That feeling of remorse, and even sadness. That regretful hand that prevented me from using the dagger.

I couldn't kill monsters.

Not just Sans. I knew I couldn't kill or even hurt _any_ monster, be it a little Whimsun or that Knight Knight thing that almost kills me. I wasn't ready for such thing. I didn't even see the point. Killing them won't make us better. I need to tell him that I can't kill monsters, even if it has been my dream since I was little. Well, littler.

But his reaction scares me. He never listens, so why should he be fine with this? Stoick always wanted me to be a true Viking, and to be a true Viking you must kill a monster. Kill one in the Kill Ring, to be precise. That's the event that takes place when the students in the training arena win different matches, and when there are two left, they complete one last challenge, and the one who Gothi, the elder, accepts, will be the one to kill the most dangerous monster they have captured so far. Turns out this time it's Undyne, a very big reason not to ever get close to that arena. I feel bad for whoever wins that and has to go against "the un-killable monster", as some Vikings say.

Maybe, just maybe, I can tell him in the morning. I'm really not in the mood to tell him now. I climb up the stairs as fast as I can. I'm almost there, but the relief I felt for a split second fades away as Stoick lifts his head and mutters, "Hiccup…"

I stop, at the edge of cursing. Why does this all happen to me? I never get a single speck of luck, and I think the only time I have actually been lucky was this morning, when I survived an encounter probably no one else would've gone through.

Mostly because they wouldn't have spared that monster.

"Dad! Uh…" Hesitantly, I come down the stairs. I really wish to ignore him and go upstairs, but then again that really isn't the wisest of choices. He would be twice as mad at me for not listening to whatever he has to say. I can see it coming. _"Hiccup, you messed up so badly that I will-"_ blah blah blah. Once you get used to things like these, it doesn't surprise you anymore.

But since he got me, I guess the only way to avoid the incoming scolding is to tell him that I drastically changed my mind.

"I have to, uh, talk to you, dad."

"I need to speak with you too, son." He claps his hand together. He doesn't look angry when I look at him. Not even bothered. Perhaps it wasn't a scolding at all, but better to tell him now. Now that I have the chance.

We both take the same deep breath, and our sentences come tangled together when our words escape. All I understood was 'monsters', which didn't make me feel better. If dad wants to talk about monsters with me, Odin knows how wrong this will turn out. After frowning and saying a simultaneous, "What?", Stoick falters for a moment. "Um, you go first."

"No, no _you_ go first."

The words come out of me before I can stop them. I probably shouldn't have let him get the first talk, but… he probably would've interrupted me anyways. His conversations are always one-sided.

"Alright." He sighs, almost unsure about what he's about to say. "You get your wish. Monster training. You start in the morning."

You're kidding, right?

Yes. It had to be right now. Just right now. I've been wanting to fight monsters (not precisely in the arena though) ever since I was a kid, and now that I don't want to anymore, he lets it out. Fantastic. Simply fantastic. I would've actually cheered and screamed my lungs out in joy if I was the former Hiccup who wanted to kill at least one monster, but this Hiccup wouldn't harm anything.

"Oh, man, I should've gone first." I had an urge to hit myself in the head for being so stupid. If I could go back in time I would've told him everything even if he interrupted me or went hell mad at me. He made a choice, and I know I have to accept this choice no matter what. It's always this way.

I make all sorts of movements with my arms as I hurriedly say, "Cause, uh, I was thinking, you know, we have a surplus of monster-fighting Vikings, but, do we have enough… bread-making Vikings, or small home-repair Vikings-"

"You'll need this."

My speech cuts short when an axe falls into my arms and I gasp as the ridiculous weight pulls me back, almost making me tumble. Did he even hear a word I just said? And I was being serious. I'd rather make bread than kill a monster.

That's it, enough excuses. I need to tell him.

"I don't wanna fight monsters."

The fear on my voice goes past him like nothing, and he laughs loudly, thinking I'm joking or something. I wish _he_ was joking. "Come on, yes you do!" He walks towards the fireplace, slowly, and I can tell he still has a smile on his face. I need him to listen to me more than any other time now. If he includes me on the arena, there would be no way back; if I didn't go, Gobber would personally show up at my house (or wherever I went) and take me there by the ears.

"Rephrase, dad, I _can't_ kill monsters." My voice cracks out of desperation, and I feel a slight anger boiling inside of me when he turns to me with a smile.

"But you _will_ kill monsters!"

"No, I am really-very-extra sure that I won't." The axe threatens to escape my poor grip as I speak, making it even less believable. Suddenly, his expression turns firm, and I know I'm not going anywhere with this. When he looks at me like that, I know this is one of his _Do what I tell you or do what I tell you_ moments.

"It's time, Hiccup."

"Can you not hear me?"

"This is _serious_ , son." Thankfully, he takes the heavy weight away from me. "When you carry this axe, you carry all of us with you." He hands it over to me again, and he fortunately doesn't just throw it into my arms like he did before, giving me enough time to pick it up properly and leave it on a table next to me.

One second I get rid of the burden, the next it's back on my hands as Stoick, correcting my posture, says, "Which means you walk like us, you talk like us, you think like us." If 'think like a Viking' means 'be a murderer', then no thanks, I prefer to think like someone with common sense.

"No more of… this."

 _Once_ again, he points at me entirely. I don't think people would find it very funny if I strut around calling them 'Thises'. Then again, if being a 'This' means I'm not someone who kills monsters because they think it's the right thing to do, I actually prefer being a 'This' – as long as people don't remind me constantly.

The grip on the axe loosens as I deadpan, "You just gestured to all of me."

"Deal?"

"This conversation is feeling very one-sided-"

" _Deal_?"

No, of course there's no deal, but there's no way I can say no to him. I have to accept just because he wants me to. I have to risk my life every day just because he wants me to. Where do I get the part on this? I don't feel like I'm ever allowed to do anything.

"…deal."

He puts a loaded basket over his shoulder, and looks at me for a moment. "Good. Train hard, I'll be back." He walks towards the door, putting on his helmet. "Probably."

"And I'll be here. Maybe."

The door closes, and something begs me to knock something over before I explode.

* * *

"Welcome to monster training!"

I stand behind the group as Gobber opens the gate noisily. Astrid, Snotlout, Fishlegs and the twins are here, carrying weapons as they enter the arena. It's a big and round circle, with a floor made out of wet, slippery concrete. Above the ground is an arrange of metal wires covering the whole arena so the monsters don't try to escape, and metal fences protecting the stages where the Vikings sit on to watch the Kill Ring event without danger.

In the walls at the opposite side of the entrance are located the various protected metal doors which contain the monsters; there are five, and are being slammed. From this distance I can barely hear the muffled voices of the caged monsters yelling furiously, knowing at least one of them will break free.

The teens mutter something as they look around. It's their first time in the arena, but I've been here a couple of times already, and watched some other Vikings fight against monsters that have already been killed.

"Yeah, it's only fun if you get a scar out of it." is all I hear from Astrid as she stops near the center of the ring, and I, pretty much regretting it, come in. I don't get why they want to get hurt. In my point of view, it's not fun at all to get attacked and wounded by a monster. But if they see any sort of fun in that, good for them, I guess.

"Yeah no kidding right?" Everyone turns to look at me, in confusion and pretty much disgust. The last thing they expected was to see me there, and I wonder if they are going to kick me out of here even before we fight the first monster. "Pain. Love it."

"Oh, great, who let _him_ in?" Tuffnut comments as his shoulders drop with disbelief. Quite a great welcoming, huh? That's how I will be treated every day; perhaps even worse each day, since I know I'm going to mess up badly here. I may not want to hurt monsters, however they are anything but going to notice that because, first, they are mad for being caged and used to train, and second, because they are going to be constantly attacked by selfish teens.

"Let's get started!" Gobber's voice behind startles me, and I look at him with wide eyes. I want to beg him to let me out of here, but I don't want to cause a bad impression. Or, well, a bad-er impression. "The recruit who does best, will get the honor," he does a snapping gesture with his hook hand. "of killing his first monster in front of the entire village."

I see that little smirk on Snotlout's face, and I can predict what's coming. Here come the mocks. "Hiccup already killed Sans, so… does that disqualify him, or?" The twins snort at his lame joke, and even Fishlegs shows a little smile – mostly to look good in front of the others. Astrid does nothing.

"Don't worry." Gobber puts his wide arm around me rather abruptly, and leads me towards the horizontal row the teens formed. "You're small and weak." _Thanks Gobber,_ I say in my mind. "That'll make you less of a target. They'll see you as sick or insane and go after the more Viking-like teens instead."

No wonder why I said he was not good at solving this kind of stuff. He pats my shoulder with a chuckle and shoves me next to Fishlegs, and continues his dialogue. I try not to cheer when he stops making me feel worse.

"Behind these doors are just a few of the many monsters you will learn to fight." He points at each of the doors. They tremble at each slam they get, and lights and a bit of smoke come out of the edges as the captive creatures try their best to burst them open. "Mettaton,"

"AT and DF 47," the know-it-all Fishlegs starts, shifting from one feet to another and clutching the hammer with both of his hands excitedly.

"The Dogi,"

"AT 14, DF 5,"

"Undyne,"

"AT 50, DF 20,"

"Mad Dummy,"

"AT 30!"

"Would you stop that?!" Gobber had finally had enough of Fishlegs' too vast knowledge, and I think we all agree that his kind action of shutting his mouth was pleasant. He rolls his eyes before continuing, this time placing a hand on the last door's lever. Here comes the crazy action. "And, the Gyftrot." He grins, and nobody else except for me seem to realize that he always does this same method with everyone.

"AT 16, DF 8," Fishlegs whispers at the corner of his mouth, as if he knew I was the only one who would listen to him. And that was true, actually.

"Whoa whoa!" Snotlout steps forward, and I have to admit I feel happy seeing that terrified expression on his face. Of course, the fact that now I have to run for my life makes me forget about it quickly. "Aren't you going to teach us first?!"

"I believe in learning on the job."

He pulls the lever, and the doors stay still for a second before they burst open, revealing a very angry Gyftrot that runs towards us. We scatter all around. "Today, it's about survival. If you get blasted," The deer-like monster slips on the wet concrete and hits the wall, but recovers its footing quickly. "you're dead."

Yeah, no kidding.

"Quick, what's the first thing you're going to need?"

"A doctor?" I say randomly. We are definitely going to need one after this, I don't think that monster will be happy until it gives us what we deserve.

"Plus-five speed?" Fishlegs suggests.

"A shield!" Astrid says calmly, prepared to make a run for it. She said it like she already knew what was going to happen. I so wish I had that confidence; I don't know how she can think straight with a very angry monster willing to kill us.

"Shields! Go!"

They are all over the corners of the arena, piled up and individuals. "Your most important piece of equipment is your shield!" I struggle to pick up one; I can't find the right place to hold it as I'm also carrying an axe. It's suddenly lifted up, me along with it, and see that it's Gobber who helped me out. "If you must make a choice between a sword and a shield, take the shield!" He pushes me towards the battle.

The Gyftrot is chasing after Fishlegs, so I have time to hide before I become its next target. As I try to find somewhere safe, I see the twins arguing over a shield – while there are at least five more scattered around them.

"Get your hands off my shield!"

"There's like a million shields!"

"Take that one, it has flowers, girls like flowers."

Ruffnut snatches the shield from her brother's hands and hits him right in the head.

"Oops! Now this one has blood on it."

The Gyftrot makes its way towards them as they keep arguing. For some reason, Ruffnut gave the shield back to Tuffnut so they could fight over it again, when she could have taken it. Small snowballs start floating above the monster as it nears, and it shakes it head to make them go straightly at the bickering twins. A couple of snowballs hit the shield, and send them both flying.

"Tuffnut! Ruffnut! You're out!"

"…what?" they both ask in confusion. The blast was strong enough to actually hurt them. I started to think they couldn't feel pain considering how many times they hit each other.

"Those shields are good for another thing! Noise! Make lots of it to throw off a monster's aim."

We start banging our shields with our weapons, making fairly annoying, sharp noises that come from every direction. The Gyftrot starts to look really dazed, and it shakes from left to right as it tries to regain focus.

"Most monsters have a limited number of shots! How many does a Gyftrot have?"

The clanging stops and the monster starts aiming for a new target, who seems to be Fishlegs.

"Five?" Snotlout asks, running around the arena to avoid being fired at.

Raising his arm in the air, Fishlegs points out, "No, six!" and nods happily when Gobber confirms it.

"Right, six, that's one for each of you!"

The Gyftrot shoots a new horde of snowballs that hit the lifted shield, and almost tear his entire arm off.

"Fishlegs, you're out."

He screeches, and flees away faster than any other time I've seen him run. I hide behind an old rack, which seems to be the only safe place. Coming out now is not the best of choices; there are only three of us left, which means I have more chances of getting killed by that thing.

"Hiccup, get in there!" Gobber growls at me, but several snowballs disintegrate in every direction when they hit the wall as I come out, and I'm forced to go back to my hiding place. Yeah, like if I'm going to go out there now.

The creature doesn't seem to be interested in me, and aims for Snotlout and Astrid instead. He says something to Astrid I can't really hear, but by the annoyed, yet focused look on her face and the flirty look on his I can tell he was trying to get her attention. He didn't get Astrid's, but he got the Gyftrot's. I want to laugh as the snowballs send him flying.

She cartwheels next to me, and I feel protected having her around. "So, I guess it's just you and me, huh?"

"Nope, just you."

She gets out of the way, and I can't help looking at her as she leaves. I look forward just in time to see at least three snowballs coming at my direction, and they knock the shield out of my hands as I try to take cover with it. It rolls across the arena, and I try to catch it. I still have a chance to survive this, I only need the shield.

How many shots does the Gyftrot have left? One hit the twins, another Fishlegs, another Snotlout, one of them missed, and the last one was aimed at me.

…it's got one left. And it's right behind me, I hear its hooves against the cold floor.

"One shot left!" Good time to tell me, Gobber. I'm already running for my life. Crud, the shield rolls away from me and I'm unable to care about it anymore as I look over my shoulder and see the monster hot on my heels.

"Hiccup!"

I try to turn either left or right as I meet a wall on my path, but the slippery floor ruins my turn and I fall against the rocky wall – and directly into the Gyftrot's aim. It shakes its head like an angry bull about to charge, rears on its hind legs, and summons the snowballs as it looks at me.

There's only one difference between my encounter with Sans and my encounter with this creature – the Gyftrot is not going to spare me.

I close my eyes and brace for the imminent blow. That never came. I hear the Gyftrot growl and feel a cold explosion next to me, and look to see Gobber with his hook hand holding the monsters' antlers as it tries to break free.

"And that's six. Go back to bed, ya overgrown deer!"

He spins the monster around and tosses it into its cage, closing it without much effort. I'm unable to move, or even look somewhere else. Going through the same thing twice is not pleasant at all.

"You'll get another chance, don't you worry." Gobber assures the rest. They all huff, and breathe heavily. "And remember." He walks until he's in front of me, and his eyes look at mine in disappointment. "A monster will always, _always_ , go for the kill."

He grabs my arm and pulls me up, and I feel like a ragdoll as everyone leaves. I look at the wall. Each of the snowballs that hit it made a hole in it.

A monster will always go for the kill? There's something that doesn't fit here.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter VI – Book**

The bola is still there, untouched, and I can easily tell nobody came here.

I managed to sneak into the forest. At this time of the day there are no monsters to fend off and most Vikings are repairing things, hanging out at the village or sleeping. Stoick and Gobber are normally at the Great Hall discussing their stuff or just talking now, so I have enough time to wander off without anyone noticing.

"So why didn't you?"

I pick up the heavy rock of the bola. After what Gobber said, I felt a wave of questions hit me. Monsters hate us; we have this norm of kill on sight – they have it too. That Gyftrot, which was just an ordinary monster that had been aggravated and probably never had human contact before, really didn't question its actions when it was about to kill me. Sans did confront humans and had many reasons to kill me. I wounded him, I tried to kill him. I had no one to defend me and nothing to protect myself with, so why did he let me go? There had to be some sort of trick here.

I gaze toward the direction the monster took, a slender path with a few trees here and there. If I could only see him again… just to try and clear up my doubts. But that's impossible. Why would a monster that tries hard not to ever be seen stay in an open place where anyone could find him? I didn't see any worrying wounds on him, so he should've been fine enough to leave, even though he did teeter a bit as he left, probably dazed and tired. But I didn't come all the way here for nothing. It won't hurt me to take a look around.

Unless some wild monster stands in my way and I'm forced to run away like the coward I am.

I jump over a thick tree stump lying on the muddy ground and make my way towards a rocky, tiny cave. I step through small stones and duck under protruding roots until I reach the end; it's the entrance to a cove, and a beautiful one at that. I let my eyes enjoy the sight. A flock of at least four singing birds flies past the clear lake in the middle, and the grass and plants sticking to the tall rock walls that surround the place get a greener hue as the sunbeams enter through.

If only I could get this sight every day. The village is not pretty at all. We lack trees and lakes full of clear water. There's only grass there, a few rocks here, our sheep over there. Not much to see, just the boring old Berkian environment. But this is something I'd never get tired of observing.

But of course, no monster to be seen here. Sans must've returned to wherever the monsters come from, and it's pretty probable that I'll never see him again. Mostly because I don't think Stoick is ever going to let me out during a raid.

"I'm so stupid…" I turn to leave, but the distant sound of bushes rattling their leaves makes me give the cove a last small glance. Must be some sort of animal, or a lost, I hope harmless monster. I sigh. There's no point in being here. During the raids, this forest is the place where the monsters wait for their entrance, so I really don't want to run into one. I'd stay here until night if it wasn't so risky.

A loud noise familiar to my ears makes me flinch as I take a couple of steps to go back, and I look towards the cove in just a second, enough to see a blue beam emerging from below and hitting the side of the entrance with devastating force. I cover my face with my arm and crouch as the explosion sends bits of fire and rock flying in every direction.

That beam... No Viking would ever question where it came from. From whom it came from. No one thinks twice before screaming in terror and getting out of the way when that one blue laser strikes.

I can barely believe my eyes. Why is Sans still here?

I still feel that involuntary smile carve itself in my face. The monster that could've killed me not long ago is literally right next to me, and a rock cliff is the only thing that separates us. As I make my way down to get a better view, I calm myself a little knowing that Sans hadn't seen me and thus didn't attack me; that beam was purposely directed at the wall. A few small trees and bushes, small parts of the ground, and many parts of the rock walls are completely scorched, probably by the deadly lasers, and a few boulders scattered across the area have deep scratch marks, as if something resembling a projectile had hit them at a high speed; some of them are even cut in half. Even the stupidest Viking in the world could tell that this monster was furious, a good reason not to get too close.

I jump onto a big boulder right below the entrance. I let a few pebbles slip off as I crouch and try to hide myself from anything's sight. They say that when a monster is angry, no matter how weak or small it is, the best thing is to let it calm itself down as one angered creature can really cause huge destruction, and considering how powerful Sans is… well, the sight below me (and all around me) proves that this is true.

I find the skeletal monster at the other side of the lake, seeing how he summons at least three of those dragon skulls and makes them shoot a strong, triple beam at the cliff; the upper part shatters and sends a few small boulders down.

I frown.

Sans must know someone could come here. What's the point in making this much noise when everything else is quiet? He can take any Viking's attention. I don't see why he must let his anger out on this cove and not in the place he came from, wherever it is.

The monster clearly looks frustrated about something, and almost tiredly summons a single, much smaller dragon skull that shoots a slender beam. It barely damages the rock wall at the other side. He must've been here since yesterday, no wonder he can barely create strong attacks anymore.

I look around. I know almost every single part of Raven Point, despite the fact that I never came around here, and no wonder I never encountered this cove before. The only entrance to this place is the small cave above me. If someone fell down here, they'd need some sort of climbing equipment to get out.

…wait a second.

It suddenly makes sense, and guilt strikes me. Sans is still here because he can't get out. One would need tools to get to the entrance once down, but he has nothing of that sort. The walls are way too steep and there's no way he can jump from rock to rock, they are too far away from each other. It's my fault that he's here. If I hadn't been so selfish, this would never have happened.

I just notice I still have the notenook and the pencil with me. Out of the small peaks I managed to get, the ancient book of monsters provides a brief description of the creatures, and I think some of them have descriptions of their attacks too; that helps when you try to find them and engage in a fight. I have a monster that keeps attacking everything in sight right here. Better have a bit of information for later – maybe I'll even write it on the book, but I'll save that idea for later. I'm pretty sure there has to be something about Sans on the book already, I might be able to take a look at it when I get back.

I write down a quick bio and try my best to describe the attacks I've seen so far in a few words, just to sum up what I may write in the manual. However, if someone sees the actual information in the book, then they might get suspicious. But knowing how stubborn we are, they might dismiss it as a joke, no need to worry.

Guilt suddenly hits me again as I look down. The explosions stopped and Sans doesn't seem to know what to do anymore; he just stares at the water of the lake. Stuck in a cove in a place where anyone could find him; worst thing that could happen to a monster. Yes, I was so stupid indeed.

Something touches my fingers and I realize too late that the pencil was closer to the edge of the boulder than I thought. I desperately try to grab it before it falls, but it quickly slips off, leaving me no time to catch it.

 _Now_ I messed up.

I pray for the pencil to fall on grass so its fall would be silent, but it crashes against some rocks below, much to my dismay getting the skeleton's attention. I prepare myself to run for my life as he looks up at me, but I stop. He just stares at me, but shows no intentions of attacking. He doesn't even look too mad at me, even though that glare is a mixture between bewildered and angered.

I realize my hand is still uselessly extended to catch the fallen pencil, and I slowly pull it back as I tilt my head. We tried to kill each other, and I'm the reason why he's stuck down there. I'm an easy target from here, he could just use those dragon skulls and I'd be dead in a second.

Why doesn't he?

Much to my surprise, he seems to mirror my action, but he still looks wary. There's something about this monster that makes him different from the rest.

* * *

Wet as a fish springing out of the water, I open the giant door of the Great Hall with my hair soaking my face. It started raining all of a sudden as I made my way back, and the storm caught me off-guard. The surprise I find inside is not pleasant: Gobber and my class are commenting about today's training, their voices echoing all over the enormous room. I just want to take my food and forget about them as I wait for Gobber to take out the book. I need information, and the sooner the better.

As soon as I get close to get my dinner, mocking faces automatically turn towards me. Snotlout grins widely as I pick up my plate, and Gobber opportunely asks, "Where did Hiccup go wrong?"

"He showed up?"

"He didn't get killed?"

I ignore the twins as much as I can. I pick up a drink from the table and keep walking as Snotlout uselessly moves to the side, trying to prevent me from sitting on the bench. Did he really think I was going to spend valuable time with them? Sure. I don't want to become stupid, thank you very much.

"He's _never_ where he should be."

A stinging pain wrenches my heart as Astrid's words dig into me like a vicious sword. The arena is pretty much the only chance I have to impress Astrid, now I notice, but maybe I'm just making it all worse. She never joins the mocks, but this time she seems to have gotten enough of my failures.

"Thank you, Astrid." Gobber says rather happily, and I try not to smash my food into the table as I sit down. Nobody ever cares about how I feel, and when they do, they don't help at all. That's my everyday life, and now that I have to train with these stinky guys? Oh well, my social life just got forever ruined. I'll have to accept it, no one will ever care for me. Now I know that if I get killed in the arena no one will ever miss me. Probably not even my father.

Sometimes I wish Sans killed me, but I'm not going to stretch this out too far.

Gobber circles the table, and I'm delighted to see him pulling out the book as he says, "You need to live and breathe this stuff." He pushes something off the table, and continues, "The 'Monster Manual'. Everything we know about every monster we know of."

A deep thunder rumbles across the Great Hall, and Gobber looks around him. "No attacks tonight. Study up."

He hobbles away, and disgusted faces immediately appear on the teens. "Wait. You mean read?"

"While we're still alive?"

Snotlout smashes the table with his fist, sending something next to him flying, but I don't even care to look at what it is. "Why read words when you can just kill the stuff the words tell you stuff about?"

"Oh, I've read that book like, seven times!" Fishlegs yells excitedly, innocently thinking any of the teens surrounding him will care on the slightest about his great knowledge. "There's this water monster that throws giant water-drops at you," Snotlout turns to him with this expression, as if he thought the chubby know-it-all next to him was crazy. The others stop playing around and whispering to stare at him with droopy faces. "And- and there's this other one, that-"

"Yeah, sounds great." Tuffnut cuts him off, making a _shut-your-mouth_ gesture with his hand. "There was a chance I was gonna read that."

"But… now…?" his sister finishes, with the most bored tone I've heard so far.

"You guys read," Snotlout says, standing up. "I'll go kill stuff." Everyone except for Astrid follows him, muttering things to each other as they leave. Fishlegs makes the bench fall as he stands up way too abruptly, but manages to put it back on place without stopping.

I don't even feel like touching my food, I have more important things to do. I stand up, and not expecting much, walk next to Astrid. Her eyes glance at me. "So I guess we'll... share?"

She hurriedly pushes the book towards me, quickly saying, "Read it." before deciding that a bunch of stupid teens is better company than me. I honestly prefer being alone, but… I don't think I'll be able to stand this kind of treating for much longer.

"Yeah, all mine then, wow. So well, uh okay, I'll- I'll see you, ah-"

The door closes heavily, and I'm left alone again.

"Tomorrow…"

Now that I have the book in front of me, I look around. Several Vikings are around me, so I think it's better to wait until everyone leaves. I brought the notebook with me, and I don't want anyone to see me with this information.

* * *

I come back later. The Great Hall is empty and there's nothing but darkness to be seen. Guided by the light of a candle, I make my way towards the forgotten manual as thunder growls outside, leave the candle next to it, and sit down. I open it on the first page, and read out loud.

"Monster classifications. Strike Class, Fear Class, Mystery Class." Little to no information is known about Sans, so there must be something about him around that section. I read through different pages. Most of them are stained. Each monster has its two own pages; as I remember, they have a bio, descriptions of their attacks and colorless drawings depicting them fighting against Vikings.

"Glyde."

The picture is a lonely, flying Glyde.

"This reclusive monster inhabits secluded areas."

The next page shows an apparently angered Glyde with a much more fierce appearance attacking a Viking, shooting star-shaped bullets out of its tail that land on the man's chest and draw blood.

"When startled the Glyde shoots concussive bullets that can kill a man at close range. Extremely dangerous; kill on sight."

There's another drawing below, depicting a Viking stabbing a Glyde with a sword.

I pass a few pages. "Tsunderplane." The drawing depicts a strange bird-like monster with sharp wings and what appears to be a hat. "This creature has razor sharp wings that can slice through full grown trees." A picture shows this. "Extremely dangerous; kill on sight."

The next page appears to be about the monster Fishlegs talked about before. The drawing is an eerie creature that looks like a strange bathtub. "Woshua. Sprays scalding water at its victims." The other drawing shows it launching water-drops at several Vikings. Some of them look dead. "Extremely dangerous-"

I gasp when a way too loud lightning bolt flashes through the door, and I felt my body rattling for a second, thinking it was a monster raid.

Making sure there is nothing to be worried about, I keep on, fear growing. The monster descriptions are freaky enough, no need for the creepy ambiance outside to scare everything out of me. The drawing that shows up next as I flip the page depicts an innocent-looking monster. "Vulkin. Even newborn monsters can shoot lightning bolts. Kill on sight."

The next pages show a few of the monsters in the arena along with some others I've never heard of. I start flipping them hurriedly. "Gyftrot, the Dogi, Madjick, Papyrus, Memory Head…" I don't even bother to read the names as I go on; all I see is drawings of monsters killing humans and viceversa, and not-encouraging texts.

"Burns its victims, buries its victims, chokes its victims… Extremely dangerous, extremely dangerous, kill on sight, kill on sight, kill on sight…"

I finally find the page I was looking for, but it does not precisely have what I was looking for. It's a blank, stained page, with only a title and a few lines. The writing is shaky, as if the one who wrote this down was terribly afraid.

"Sans. Speed: unknown. Size: unknown. 'The unholy offspring of lightning and Death itself'. Never engage this monster. Your only hope: hide and pray it does not find you."

I search through my coat until I find the notebook, and leave it on top of the manual, open by the page where I wrote what I could about Sans.

I don't think publishing this is a good idea. I need more information. Way more. I just don't believe a so-called 'unholy offspring of lightning and Death itself' would ever let a human go, let alone not attack them when he had the chance. That title must be incorrect.

And I will prove it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter VII –Contact**

"Hey, you know, I just happened to notice the book had nothing about Sans."

The next day in the arena, I try to get Gobber to give me some answers. We've seen what Sans can do, so I doubt that there's _that_ little information about him. I of course don't think we know something else other than the attacks, but… It's barely anything. Those who wrote the book paid good attention to details, as far as I know.

I tried to ask Gobber while we walked here so I didn't have to leave myself unwary of attacks during the session, but he was talking to the teens and I decided to keep my mouth shut before they decided to target me again. I overheard him saying that last training was just the beginning, and that from today on we'd learn to fight the most dangerous and tricky monsters we have captive. Great news… As soon as we got into the arena, the first thing we realized was that there was a maze made up of tall, wooden barriers. Gobber told us to grab a weapon and a shield and quickly scatter around without asking while he released the monster. He climbed up the metal bars that surround the arena afterwards, and now watches us from here. I still don't even know which monster we're fighting yet.

What worries me the most is the fact that Gobber can't protect us from up there, so if we happen to get into trouble, we're on our own. Today, I really do feel like I'm going to die. A surely dangerous monster on the loose, and a trainer who can't protect us? Yeah, if I manage to get out of this alive, I'll jump off a cliff to make completely sure I'm not dreaming. Not literally, of course. Perhaps in my mind.

"Is there like another book, or a- a sequel? Maybe a- a little pamphlet-"

I'm pulled back suddenly as something I barely recognize as a lightning bolt-shaped projectile crashes against the axe I'm holding, completely decimating the top and leaving me with a useless, scalding wooden stick; the wall behind me is burned and small sparks come out for a second. That went fast. Now what am I supposed to do, hit the monster with a shield? As if that was going to work.

"Wow…!" I gasp, looking around me to see where the threat came from. I put the shield in front of me just in case. Honestly, the last thing I expected was the monster finding me. I thought these walls plus a few bickering teens willing to fight would keep whatever it is away from me, at least until I managed to get Gobber to listen to me. Guess I'm a way too easy target for monsters to ignore.

"Focus, Hiccup! You're not even trying!" Gobber yells in a bored tone, completely ignoring my question, and that's when I see our next foe several feet away from me and glaring, hopping off the wooden wall. I'm not anywhere near as scared as I would be any other time; I actually read up the manual attentively to be prepared for today. I managed to remember the monsters Gobber told us we were going to fight so I had at least a single clue on how to fight them. The Gyftrot was definitely the easiest, compared to the others. And this one is anything but a monster you should lose sight of, if you want to live.

And it's a very weird monster too. Metta-something, I recall he was called. I know that this thing does not take being here lightly, and that has several 'forms' – three to be exact, and this is the one called 'EX'. Unfortunately, this form is said to be the last one you want to deal with in a fight. One of the things that makes this creature extremely weird is that he's a monster created by another monster, and I'm not even kidding. I also read something about this kind of thing being called a 'robot', if I remember correctly.

Guess today's my lucky day, huh? I'm here weaponless and with a very angry monster fighting me. Can things be worse?

"Focus indeed! Snap out of your thoughts, think about ME!" the monster yells proudly in a strange voice, and I don't hesitate before hurriedly choosing a direction to run off to. I also read that this monster is really narcissistic and attention-seeking, and the book said that this thing keeps talking about his 'perfection' to confuse us.

"Today, is all about attack!" Gobber instructs, and I run faster as I realize this darn monster is following me, moving about on top the barriers instead of following us directly – likely to not get hit by any axes or swords, and I don't think anyone except for Astrid is good at aiming and throwing weapons here; a quick look at them tells everything. Clever monster, if I do say so myself.

"Running off? Can't even dare to fight? I had no idea humans were this cowardly!"

Wow. Now even monsters make fun of me.

"Mettaton is quick and light! Your job is to be quicker and lighter!"

And how, exactly? Sometimes I don't think Gobber is trying to teach us properly. All he does is watch, tell us about what the monster does (barely), and give us orders about what to grab and where to go. At least he could tell us _how_ to fight, like he did the first time – the more or the less. I turn around to gladly see that this living pile of metal is not following me anymore, but I hear Fishlegs giving a brief shriek, and the monster almost jokingly saying, "Screaming is against the rules, darling!"

Is that an actual rule? Look at how much I care, and how much Fishlegs cares – he still screams even louder after I hear a few electric noises, and I see him running into my sight with his shield full of smoke and with visible burn marks. The monster probably used the same lightning-projectile attack on him, and I'm sure I don't want to get hit by that. Now I start to think that the Gyftrot's snowballs were a gift compared to these mortal bullets.

"I'm really beginning to question your teaching methods!" Fishlegs tells Gobber nervously, running through the maze to avoid being found again, but I don't really see our so great instructor caring; he, instead, continues his non-helpful teaching.

"Look for his blind spot. Almost every monster has one."

Oh, the blind spot, I remember that. A monster's blind spot is the zone where it can't see you any longer. For example, if we were fighting against a Glyde, its blind spot would be its tail, because it can't turn its head around that much. Yes, basically, it's the part where the monster can't really see you approaching at all without turning its entire body around; it doesn't really mean that the monster is literally blind.

But this Mettaton thing is an exception to that, because he actually has a spot in which he can't see, as if he really was partially blind. According to the manual, if you stand several feet away and in front of him, he can't see you. The moment you move left or right, get too far or too close, or for some reason start dancing like crazy, then Mettaton will realize you're there. It's apparently an 'error'. The book stated that this monster's creator, Alphys I think was its name, was still working on him and must've messed up Mettaton's sight somehow. Good for us, I guess.

"Find it, hide in it, and strike!" Gobber continues, watching the arena intently. I honestly think using the blind spot to kill a monster is unfair, but if that's how it is, then that's how it is. I'm definitely not the one to judge this.

I walk around with alert eyes. I don't hear the robot wandering around, and I can't see him standing on any of the wooden walls either. As I move through as silently as I can, though, I hear his voice right after I hear gasps apparently coming from the twins. "Since when can humans become invisible?" I can safely assume that those two are on the blind spot, but not even in such a crucial moment can they stop being… well, themselves. Just a small moment of silence, and then it's ruined by Ruffnut complaining about her brother's bad smell. That's when it starts to go south; I hear their shields clashing and the two yelling at and threatening each other. They sure do care more about a simple insult than a deadly foe in front of them.

They suddenly become quiet, and I overhear Mettaton saying, "Oh, there you are! Just in time to die!" I realize they were behind the walls in front of me as I see Ruffnut and Tuffnut running out, and heart-shaped bullets exploding just inches away from them. The monster doesn't seem to follow them, so I better keep myself wary in case he ignores the others and finds me.

"Blind spot, yes. Deaf spot? Not so much." Gobber comments, chuckling afterwards. I think I may have a chance to ask him now. I just want to know one more fact about Sans. Just one, is it too much to ask for? I know what most of his attacks do, I know what he looks like… I only want to know some kind of behavior example. I'm actually starting to think that visiting the cove, going there by myself, is a good idea. Gobber has a pretty long rope in the stall, so I might be able to use it to get to the cove and go back up.

All I need to get my plan to work is to get out of here alive.

Astrid and Snotlout run past me, and I stop as I find myself under Gobber's bored gaze. "Hey- hey, so… How would one sneak up on Sans?" I hope he doesn't find it suspicious that I'm suddenly so concerned about this monster, but then again Gobber doesn't really mind this stuff.

He puts a hand over his forehead as if trying to get rid of the headache my questions were giving him, and hurriedly says, "No one's ever met it and lived to tell the tale," only to then shout, "now GET IN THERE!"

I step back at his sudden tone as he points at the arena. I'm not going anywhere with this, and I really think I'm going to be forced to learn new information by myself. "I know, I know, but hypothetically-"

"Hiccup!" Astrid whispers harshly behind me, and I flinch thinking she was going to smack me for being the annoying idiot she probably thinks I am. She's crouched against one of the walls, Snotlout with her. "Get down!"

I do as she tells me when I see Mettaton looking for us. "Cowards? Heh, more like crybabies. Come on, I just want to kill you all!" Astrid peeks around the wall and takes a few confident breaths. She doesn't even feel threatened. I call it now, I will never understand how she's never even _afraid_ of these things.

Silently, she somersaults to the next wall, evading the monster's sight. Snotlout follows. Come on, if that guy can do it, so can I. Right? To be honest, I never did a somersault in my entire life, but Gobber used to tell me that 'sometimes, first times are the most successful'. Now it's a great moment to listen to him.

I dive in, and the maneuver seems good at first, but then I'm pulled back by the weight of the shield. Definitely, the first thing I'm going to do tomorrow morning is train these twigs I have for arms. The shield did a lot louder noise than I expected it to produce, and it throws a blast of bad luck at me as Mettaton faces toward my direction. I can easily tell I'm not in the blind spot because he immediately lets out a laugh and summons a few copies of his first form, literally a rectangular box, and I get to my feet faster than I ever thought I could before the heart bullets they shoot obliterate me. The explosions they cause in contact with the floor almost make me stumble.

As I look behind I see Mettaton following Snotlout and Astrid, so I can use the little time I have to ask Gobber again. He has to answer just _one_ of my questions, so far he only told me the obvious – that no one has survived and encounter with Sans. Except for me, of course. Not to brag, but I survived twice.

"Maybe somebody has seen it, or we could see it at a certain time." I insist; Gobber is not even looking at me.

Somewhere near where I am I can hear Snotlout trying to flirt with Astrid and uselessly impress her again; he confidently says, "Watch out, babe, I'll take care of this!" I hear his weapon crash against the wall and Mettaton laughing mockingly. He probably missed by a mile, not a surprise. I hear more explosions, and Snotlout still attempting to gain Astrid's attention. "The sun was in my eyes, Astrid! What do you want me to do, block out the sun? I can do that, I just don't have the time right now!"

"It probably takes the daytime off." I'm so focused into getting a single answer that I don't even try to dodge Astrid, chased by Mettaton, who both go right past me. I hear the walls crumbling as the monster crashes into them. "You know, like a cat? H-has anyone ever seen it… napping or something?" All the teens run past me, hitting my shoulders over and over again.

I don't look at what's happening around me until Gobber frantically yells, "Hiccup!" Peeking over my shoulder, I get impressed at the sight. The entire maze has fallen down, but that's not what I should be worried about. Astrid jumps into a falling barrier with Mettaton following, and I realize too late that they're coming towards the last wall; which is the one that's about to fall on top of me.

"HICCUP!" Astrid screams atop of her lugs, as she is forced to jump off before the wall hurts her, and I trip as she lands on top of me with her axe dangerously close. The monster stumbles away and I realize that Astrid's axe is stuck on my shield – if it wasn't for it, I would be dead by now. She violently tries to stand up and retake her weapon, pushing and hitting me.

"Oh, love on the battlefield!" Tuffnut comments with a huge grin, only to make this even more awkward.

"She can do better." Ruffnut adds.

"Let me- why don't you-" I try to help Astrid before she tears my face off, but she finally gets off of me without killing me in the process, albeit she knocks the air out of my lungs as she uses my chest to pull herself up. A sudden noise of broken wood flying off and an angry, "That's it, sweetheart! You've _done_ it!" coming from I already know who tell me that this is just about to get worse.

I try to stand up and just give Astrid the axe, but before I can she crazily tries to rip the weapon off the shield. Her boot on my face, she snatches the axe, still stuck on the shield, out – almost ripping my arms off as well – and, almost with utter fear, lands a perfect strike as the shield literally shatters into pieces when it hits Mettaton.

He wobbles back with a startled yelp, and muttering, "Sheesh. Humans are cowardly AND aggressive..." returns to his cage by himself in defeat. I can tell, that _had_ to hurt, you being made out of metal or not.

"Well done, Astrid." Gobber congratulates her as if nothing too bad had happened, but she doesn't look pleased. In fact, she's breathing heavily, and that fiery glow on her eyes is gone – she is afraid. She was at the border of death, and not even a warrior like her was able to restrain the fear from escaping. I feel like this is all my fault…

Astrid suddenly turns around with an angry gaze that could intimidate almost any monster. She was frightened just a second ago, now she's firm and determined again, while I'm here, lying on the ground, hands over my head like, as Mettaton said, a coward, a crybaby. "Is this some kind of a joke to you?" she yells, bits of fear still invading every word of hers, but she quickly overtakes it. "Our parents' war is about to become _ours_." She points the axe, with half the shield still stuck on it, at me menacingly. "Figure out which side you're on."

The side I'm on? I honestly have no idea anymore.

And it's time for me to find out.

* * *

As always, nobody noticed I was gone. I may be about to regret this, but for me, it's a must-do thing. I grabbed a shield, a knife and the rope and quickly ran into the forest before anyone could stop me and interrogate me for having all this with me. Vikings are stubborn, but most of them would think I'm demented if they knew what my plans are. A weakling facing Sans alone with a small dagger and a shield? Not even a drunk Viking would do such thing, but here I am.

I tied the rope to a strong, protruding root near the entrance cave, and carefully slid down the steep cliff. I land hidden between two boulders and, with the shield covering me, I take a look around. Much to my surprise, there's no monster to be seen. He couldn't be gone, right? That's impossible. I got clear that there was no way Sans could get out of here.

As I make my way in, I start to think of the consequences. I glance at my shield; there's no way this small, wooden thing can protect me against lasers that can destroy an entire catapult tower, but hey, better than nothing. I still have the knife anyways, but I hope this creature gives me no reasons to use it.

I take a step forward, but before I can tell I'm stopped abruptly. Oh great, the shield got stuck between the boulders. I'm so stupid… I try to pull it out, but it's completely motionless. Anything but this! The sooner I think about it, the sooner it happens. Now I don't have anything to protect me with. I duck under the stuck shield and try to get it out from the other side, but to no avail. My shoulders drop. Oh well, just another lucky day in the life of Hiccup the Useless.

I sigh, and as carefully as possible, walk into the cove. Everything is strangely silent. No birds singing, no fish springing out of the water, no wind blowing. This feels like a nightmare in which a horrifying creature is about to pop out at any moment. There's still no sign of Sans, and I wonder if he actually did manage to leave, but I doubt it.

I look all around me. I feel like a couple of eyes are digging into my back. I can sense my breathing getting funny. If Sans is here and decides that I'm not friendly enough, then I'm pretty much a goner. There's no way I can get out of here without getting burned alive by a blast. Why do these things even cross my mind? Or, better question: why do I even listen to my mind?

"human…"

I freeze and I feel my blood running cold. There's no way that sinister voice belongs to a Viking. There's only one thing it can belong to. Sans.

I turn around slowly at the sound of a few pebbles sliding down a rock, and gasp, flinching back, as I see the monster coming down a boulder. He was watching me and I didn't even notice. No wonder he has been unseen this whole time – his stealth works even during the day. I try not to make any abrupt movements, and stay as calm as possible. Sans looks at me with both curiosity and anger, though it's not that easy to tell; this monster seems to have a permanent smile, and his eyes tell everything you need to know about his mood, apparently.

"what are you doing here."

I can tell he's not about to greet me like a good friend. We tried to kill each other and I'm the reason of why he can't leave, so of course he's not going to become my best friend forever in just a second. I gulp. I don't know what to say to make him believe that I have no intentions of fighting. He's too wary of my presence.

"I- I don't want to fight you, o-okay?" I stutter, fear taking over me. That glare is actually threatening enough to make any Viking run away, but I have nowhere to go. So, either I manage to become his friend, or at least get him to stop seeing me as a threat, or I'm blasted out of existence. There's no turning back. Do or die.

He looks confused for a moment, but the glowing irises suddenly disappear and he looks more than ready to fight in just a small moment. "heh heh, really funny. your knife tells otherwise."

I pull back my coat, revealing the blade, and look at him. He eyes the weapon as if it was his worst enemy. This just keeps getting better and better; now I have to get rid of my only defense left if I want to get out of here alive, thing I doubt anyways. My hand barely touches the hilt of the knife when that blue fire covers Sans' eye again, and I step back. " _throw it away."_

My breathing almost stops at the cold tone on his voice, and I carefully pick up the knife, hold it on my arm to let him see that I don't plan on tricking him, and let it fall on the ground. Sans still doesn't look satisfied. _"away."_ he repeats aggressively. This is the only chance I have to walk back home without a scratch, hopefully, so I better listen and do what he tells me. I pick up the fallen dagger with my boot and throw it into the lake, where it sinks in the clear water, never to be seen again.

Now I'm completely defenseless. I really do hope this monster knows what a fair fight is, otherwise I'm more than screwed right now. Sans looks at the water, then back at me, the flame vanishing and his white eyes returning. He seems much calmer now, for my relief.

"what's with you?"


End file.
